Paper Hearts
by BluSakura
Summary: There's a tradition at Kinkan Academy-on a special day, students offer their paper hearts to the person they love. FxA


*sigh* That's right. BluSakura's back with another fluff. Sorry, folks! You'll probably kill me for this one. The heart game thing in this story is a variation of a tradition in my old school, and I really wanted to use it. Based on a true story…not of me, but of someone I know.

Happy reading!

---

For once in her life, Ahiru actually woke up on time.

Unfortunately for her, that was the one day when it just simply didn't pay to get up in the morning.

She had been dreading this Friday all week, ever since Mr. Cat made the announcement to the Academy. Only a month ago, Fakir succeeded in changing her back to a girl, and they were promptly reenrolled in the school. Everything was all fine and dandy until last Monday rolled along.

Mr. Cat--a humanteacher who, ironically, owned a whole litter of cats, one in particular bearing a strong resemblance to her old instructor--described the school-wide tradition in an assembly.

It was the Trading Heart Game. Though, it really was so much more than a game to her. Every student was to receive a heart necklace hanging from their doorknobs on that Friday, girls with red hearts and boys presented with blue. A student was supposed to wear the heart if he or she had feelings for someone, and offer the necklace as a symbol of their undying love for that person. If that person returned the feelings, they would trade hearts, and wear them around their necks as a display of their mutual affection.

But there was that gargantuan chance that the person would completely and utterly reject her. And Ahiru knew Fakir well enough that he'd never in a million years wear something like a heart. Especially hers.

Yes. She had loved him for a while now. And today was another reminder that she had no excuse for putting off confessing anymore. At least when she had that crush on Mytho, she could say that she wouldn't tell him for fear of disappearing.

However, Fakir was never a prince, and Ahiru wasn't Princess Tutu anymore. She knew she wouldn't disappear. She had every opportunity to just come out and say it, but she had seen how he blatantly rebuffed the many, many, _many_ girls that proclaimed their undying affections for him. Frankly, it scared her to death.

Not only would he most likely not care for her that way, but it might completely ruin her friendship with him. Her bond with Fakir was her most prized possession.

Friday encroached upon her as the week wore on, ensuring her inevitable doom.

And when she got up that morning, bright and early and painfully wide awake, Ahiru slowly changed into her uniform and dragged her feet to her door. When she opened it, she let out a small whimper. Sure enough, on the other side, a necklace dangled from the doorknob.

It was a rather cheap-looking piece of twine with a red, paper heart strung on it. "_Ahiru_" was haphazardly written in black marker on both sides. It really wasn't much of a necklace at all. With a sigh, she plucked it from the doorknob and examined it.

Maybe she shouldn't wear it at all. Maybe she could pretend that the dark-haired, green-eyed, jerk-face didn't completely and undeniably hold her heart in the palm of his hand.

Suddenly, a pink and yellow blur zoomed down the hall and tackled her to the ground.

Pique and Lilie stood excitedly, leaving a dazed and confused Ahiru on the floor. "Today's the day!" they cried in unison, grabbing each of the redhead's hands and hopping up and down.

Ahiru, involuntarily bouncing with them, sighed. "…Yeah."

Hearing the spiritless tone, Lilie blinked and grinned giddily. "Oh, does poor, little loveless Ahiru not have the courage to tell someone her hopeless, unrequited feelings~?" The blonde paused to cuddle Ahiru's head in a stranglehold, ignoring the redhead's gasping and wheezing. "Or perhaps there is _no one_ that makes you happy and you want to just cry and cry over your lonely misery~! Oh, you poor, tortured thing, you~!"

Pique blinked and pointed at Ahiru's blue face. "Ah, Lilie, I think she needs a little air."

Lilie pouted, but reluctantly released the suffocating girl. "Oh, Ahiru~! Pique and I will be here to help you pick up the broken pieces of your poor shattered heart when it inevitably splinters into thousands of little fragments~!"

Ahiru gulped, secretly wondering if that really was how the day was going to end. Knowing Fakir as well as she did, he wouldn't try to let her down easy.

Oh! Ahiru glanced at Pique's own necklace, the red heart with her name on it hanging from her neck. Didn't Pique like Fakir, too? "Ah, Pique," Ahiru mumbled, twiddling her thumbs, "Who are you going to offer yours to?"

Her pink-haired friend bit her lip and shuffled her feet. "Ah, well, I know I really should stay faithful as a member of the Fakir Faction, but…you know Fakir's friend? With the glasses?"

Ahiru let out a breath and a small smile grew on her face. "Autor?"

"Yeah…him. I met him a couple times in the library, and he even helped me pick out some good books for my research report." Pique fiddled with the heart around her neck. "And he's actually really cute and nice."

More than a little relieved, Ahiru's smile grew. Perhaps those two really would make a good couple. She then turned to glance at Lilie's heart, which was covered in glitter glue and stickers and candy hearts. Obviously, the blonde decided to make it her own. "Ah, Lilie, who's yours for?"

Lilie grinned. "Oh, no one in particular~! I just want to wear it so that any unfortunate soul who has fallen head-over-heels in love with me will have the false hope of being the one to own my heart~! Poor, poor dears~! But I'll accept their hearts, if only to ease them from dealing with broken ones~!"

Pique rolled her eyes and turned back to Ahiru. "So, are you wearing yours today?"

Scrutinizing the paper heart in her hands, Ahiru needed to make a decision. Perhaps she should tell him today; it would be the perfect opportunity, even if Fakir didn't return her feelings. Really, what was the worst that could happen? She doubted Fakir would let this affect their friendship anyway, should he not think of her in that respect.

"…Yeah. I'm wearing it."

---

And the twelfth faceless girl approached him, Fakir picked up his pace, growling a simple and precise "no" over his shoulder. That was all the answer she needed before she burst into tears and dashed off, leaving her crumpled, red heart behind, just as the other eleven did.

He _hated_ this day.

"Fakir, you're not wearing one?"

Fakir turned to glare at Autor, who stared back curiously. "I threw mine out. This whole thing is stupid anyway." And then, a blue heart dangling from around Autor's neck caught his eye, his friend's name scrawled messily on the paper. Fakir's scowl deepened. "Are you _serious_?"

Autor smiled wryly at his necklace. "It…used to belong to someone else, but I think I'm ready to gift another girl with it. If she'll accept me, that is."

Fakir's head lolled forward. "You're kidding me. You, of all people, _you_ are participating in this?"

"Who am I to go against tradition?" Autor shrugged and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Why aren't you wearing one as well? Isn't there someone in particular that you-?"

"No," Fakir interrupted with a scowl, "There's no one."

Autor raised an eyebrow. "Not even that girl with the freckles? The only girl you let hang around you?"

Fakir paused, and if Autor didn't know him as well as he did, he never would have caught the green-eyed man's hesitation. "No."

But before Autor could push the topic further, a bull charged by, surrounded by a flurry of rose petals and followed by a man with a paper fan. A purple-haired boy stood upon the animal, raising his hands in the air and his blue paper heart glittering with sequins from his neck. Everyone stopped and stared at the peculiar spectacle, including the semi-frightened Fakir and Autor.

"Oh my wonderful, beautiful _mademoiselles_! I know you must be aching to shower me with your hearts, but I simply cannot endow my own to a single person!"

All of the girls hightailed it out of there, hoping to not be spotted by the narcissistic teen. Fortunately for them, Femio didn't notice their disappearances. "Oh, this Adonis-like soul deserves nothing but the cruelest of punishments! _Olé_!" And the bull reared back and kicked the boy across the lawn, right at Fakir and Autor's feet.

"_Mon…a…mour…" _he mumbled before falling unconscious.

Fakir's eyebrow twitched. He _hated_ this day.

---

There he was. All dark and brooding and grouchy and handsome.

Ahiru sat rigidly on the fountain, the same place she and Fakir met for lunch for the past month. Though, this was the first time Ahiru dreaded to see him. And when he came into her vision, she didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved that he wore neither or red or blue heart at all. Obviously, he held no feelings for anyone, meaning her feelings were as unrequited as Lilie predicted that morning. But it also meant that he had no feelings for any other girl.

The thought of Fakir wearing a red heart with another girl's name on it honestly almost made her cry.

She fingered her own red heart as Fakir approached. This was it. This was the moment when she would tell him. And nothing would stop her.

…Except perhaps a girl grabbing Fakir's arm and standing in his path.

Ahiru's heart leaped in her throat. That was Arisa, the girl in the advanced class. In Ahiru's eyes, her dancing was second only to Rue, and in everyone else's eyes, she was first. Arisa was beautiful and smart and graceful and kind and everything a guy would want in a girl. Her light blue hair shined in the light of the day, and her violet eyes twinkled.

Not to mention that she was Fakir's dance partner in classes.

"Fakir? Will you accept my heart?" Arisa lifted her necklace over her head and held it out to him.

Jealousy, a feeling that began as alien to Ahiru but grew more familiar the more she saw Arisa dance with Fakir, burned in her chest, and the redhead felt terrible for feeling such dislike towards a person. Still, how could Fakir refuse such a perfect girl?

"No. Sorry," he stated evenly and simply, walking around her and continuing his way toward Ahiru.

The burning jealousy was extinguished as the weight of guilt plummeted down on Ahiru's shoulders when Arisa's face turned red with shame and embarrassment. The blue-haired ballerina turned and walked away, seemingly more confused than heartbroken.

If Fakir refused _her,_ how did Ahiru ever expect to have any sort of chance?

Finally, Fakir was right in front of her, a scowl fixed on his face. "I _hate_ this day."

Ahiru jumped. On second thought, it _wasn't_ the right moment after all. "A-Ah."

Suddenly, Fakir froze, eyes locked somewhere beneath her neck. She looked down, spotting the red heart with her name on it. Panic bubbled in the pit of her stomach and she shifted uncomfortably.

He saw it. Oh, he saw it. And he didn't look happy. "Um, Fakir? A-Are you okay?"

He continued to fix his deep, green eyes on her heart, but other than the slight glare he sent it, he kept his face carefully neutral. It was the first time in months that Fakir fought to hide how he felt around her. It was unsettling.

After a moment, he shoved his hands into his pockets, turning away from her like she was just another face in the crowd, and not the person he shared such a deep bond with and fought against the very fates with. Ahiru's heart broke, and he didn't even have to say anything.

She…_did_ ruin their friendship. Her eyes filled with tears. "F-Fakir? Don't be mad…"

His eyes glared into hers. "Why would I be mad?" Despite his question, though, his words came out as a growl, struggling vainly to veil his anger. "But I just remembered that I have somewhere to be right now." He turned away to the direction of the library. Before he left, however, he stopped in his tracks, shoulders slumping ever so slightly, intentionally avoiding her gaze and obscuring his eyes with his dark bangs.

"I hope that…whoever that belongs to takes good care of it. If he doesn't, you let me know and I'll hunt him down for you."

Ahiru's eyes widened. He thought it was for…someone else?

That was why he was mad?

He was _mad_? He was…jealous?

Ahiru jumped to her feet, dashing at full speed until she slammed right into his back, the impact sending her toppling to the ground. "Oof!"

Fakir turned back to her graceless form on the ground, raising an eyebrow. "Moron, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

She gaped up at him for a moment, struggling to gather any and all courage that she had within her, clinging to the small hope that he was jealous, that he cared for her more than just as a friend. Her faced flushed from embarrassment, but she ignored it to lift the paper heart with her name on it over her head.

As she stood and held it out to Fakir from the twine cord, the heart dangling from side to side, hands shaking, knees knocking together, face redder than it had ever been, and keeping her gaze on the ground below her, she waited with bated breath for his reaction. "…It's for you," she murmured, the words coming out little more than a whisper. _My heart is for you._

There was a long moment of silence, but Ahiru still wasn't brave enough to look at him. So she kept talking. "I know you're not wearing a heart today, and I know you probably don't like me in _that_ way. I'm okay with that, really. But…still, I really would like it if you'd…just keep it. Or something. Please?"

Another while passed before Ahiru saw in her peripheral vision Fakir lifting an arm to yank the twine cord from her grasp. He let his arm fall, the heart swinging from side to side by his calf.

Ahiru smiled sadly to herself. At least he accepted it. That was more than she could ever ask for.

But, again in her peripheral vision, she saw Fakir shove his other hand into his pocket and extract a crumpled blue paper from its depths. Quicker than she could blink, he thrust it in front of her, the crinkled heart with "_Fakir_" hastily written on both sides in black marker dangling before her eyes.

"Wha-? Fakir, you…kept yours?"

"Do you want it or not?!" he growled.

"All this time, you had yours?" Ahiru had to place a hand on her very warm face, fighting to keep from jumping up and down right on the spot.

"Just _take it!_"

She looked past the heart to gape at his burning face. His scowl and blush had deepened and his eyebrow twitched violently. She wasn't even naked and she was able to extract that kind of response from him.

Then, Fakir stiffened, and she turned to the direction he was looking in. A group of bystanders, guys and girls alike, stood in awe at the spectacle before them: Fakir, the distant, frigid danseur that no one could seem to approach was fidgeting and glowing redder than they'd ever seen while offering a girl who was his complete opposite his crinkled, blue heart.

"_What?!_" he barked. Immediately, the group scattered, dispersing themselves about the campus.

He turned back to her, face flaming even further if possible. "L-Look, moron! It's not that I still don't think this is, above all, the _stupidest _tradition, but…it was a waste of paper to just toss it out like that anyway!" Fakir immediately cringed at his lame excuse.

One hand still holding her red face, she lifted her shaky other one to delicately pluck the twine from Fakir's hand. She stared down at it, fingers caressing his messy name on the blue paper before looking back up at him. "Uh, c-can I…wear it? So people can see?"

He stared at her for a moment, the blush never losing its intensity, but his furrowed eyebrows eased.

"Do what you want with it. It's yours." _My heart is yours._

His blue, crinkled heart was hers. And while it wasn't perfect, it was the greatest gift she ever received.

Fakir lifted Ahiru's red heart over his own head, tucking the paper with her name on it under his shirt. It was away from public view, but it was so much closer to his heart.

And, in a manner so utterly unlike him, he quickly leaned forward to brush his lips against her cheek, before yanking on her braid and making his quick getaway back to the library where he planned to stay until his face stopped flaming.

Ahiru stood frozen in her spot, one hand caressing the place on her cheek where the skin still tingled from Fakir's sweet gesture and the other still fingering his blue heart. A moment passed before Pique, with a new, blue heart hanging around her neck, and Lilie, with a collection of ripped blue hearts wrapped as bracelets around her wrist and her gaudy red heart still around her neck, sauntered up to her with mischievous smiles on their faces.

The trio hopped up and down, squealing gleefully.

---

_Yeah. I know. I'm just that pathetic._


End file.
